Santa's Fantasy
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: Leslie has an unusual Christmas memory.


**A/N:** This story originally aired as a bit of dialogue that ran between fantasies on the episode "Nona/One Million B.C.", which originally aired on March 1, 1980. (In syndication the skit was cut from the episode, so I used my original cassette-tape recording to transcribe it.) With my apologies to the unknown _Fantasy Island_ writers who first dreamed up this little idea, I now present it here in honor of the holidays…with an extra twist of my own thrown in. Happy Holidays to you all – especially to my faithful fan Harry2, who is THE BEST!

§ § § -- December 24, 1984

Everything was wrapped and under the tree, although Leslie thought it still looked a little barren. "This kills me," she admitted to Roarke. "Here I am, nineteen years old and still believing in Santa."

"There's a good reason," Roarke reminded her with a grin, "or have you forgotten?"

Leslie sighed. "No, I haven't," she said, "but boy, what an initiation into life on this island." Unable to stop herself, she slid back into the memory.

† † † … March 2, 1980

It was about ten on Sunday morning; Roarke was going through some audit books while Tattoo filed some letters and Leslie was studying for an English test in school the next day. Unnoticed at first, a large, white-haired, bearded man dressed in a loud Hawaiian shirt, brilliant-red shorts and a pair of beach thongs, made his way into the foyer and paused, a huge grin on his kindly face.

Tattoo saw him out of the corner of his eye and touched Roarke's arm. "Boss, look!"

Leslie looked up and dropped her pen, instantly recognizing the guest, who had a red coat trimmed in white fur over his arm and carried a pair of shiny black boots. Tattoo was rather stunned himself; only Roarke, of course, was composed.

"Thank you for my fantasy, Mr. Roarke," the guest boomed cheerfully. "Why, it's all I ever dreamed of, and more…and it isn't even Christmas!"

Roarke beamed. "I am delighted, Mr. Claus! It's always gratifying to hear from a satisfied customer."

"Satisfied indeed!" The guest chuckled in a suspiciously familiar way. "After all these years of giving presents, I've finally received one all my own."

That was too much for Tattoo. "What did you get?" he asked with great interest.

"Here, my little friend, I'll show you." The guest turned to the door, and as if on cue, in came a lithe, lovely blonde in a string bikini. She beamed and wished them all a merry Christmas.

"Oh boss," moaned Tattoo, nearly as green with envy as the sack the girl had dragged in behind her.

Roarke smiled again. "A truly magnificent gift, to be sure." At which point Leslie's textbook and notebook slid off her lap and landed on the floor with dull thuds. She didn't appear to notice.

Tattoo gave Roarke an accusing look. "I never got anything like that in _my_ stocking."

Suddenly the guest remarked, "There's just one little thing that bothers me." Roarke tilted his head questioningly, and Claus said, "You know, she might catch a cold up at the North Pole, poor thing."

"Ah," said Roarke, and his smile returned. "Dig deeper into the bag." Claus shot him a curious look before doing as instructed, and a moment later withdrew a beautiful, shimmering floor-length sable coat, which he draped around the blonde's shoulders. Roarke nodded and inquired, "What is a present if it isn't gift-wrapped…eh, Mr. Claus?" He heard, but ignored, Leslie's incredulous groan.

"Mr. Roarke, you think of everything. Many, many thanks." Santa Claus swept them all with a benevolent gaze; then he spied Leslie. "Young lady, have you been a good girl this year?"

Leslie bolted hard upright in her seat and gulped, barely able to think. She managed to nod. "So far, I think so," she mumbled bashfully, intimidated even though some corner of her brain insisted she was dreaming this entire thing.

Santa smiled at her. "Just remember, Leslie dear…only ten and a half more months till Christmas!" So saying, he ushered his "gift" out the door. For a moment she sat still stunned, then turned to Roarke and Tattoo, only to find them watching her with big grins on their faces.

"You're sure you told him the truth?" Tattoo teased.

She shot him a look that only made his grin get even bigger; then she stared at Roarke. "But…I always thought…I mean…was that _really_ Santa Claus, Mr. Roarke? For _absolutely_ real?"

"Oh, indeed it was," Roarke assured her.

She shook her head gravely. "Boy, just when you think you've seen it all…"

"And you haven't by any means," Roarke informed her.

Her stunned aura was rapidly being replaced with disbelief. "Oh? And who's coming _next_ weekend then, the tooth fairy?"

Roarke looked caught out for a moment before admitting reluctantly, "As a matter of fact, yes…" At which Leslie threw her hands in the air in an _I give up_ gesture. Tattoo and Roarke watched her, still not bothering to hide their amusement, while she scraped up her books from the floor, found her pen under Roarke's desk where it had rolled, and got up to head up to her room.

But she wasn't finished yet. Leslie paused right in front of Roarke's desk, shot him the same accusing look Tattoo had earlier, and demanded, "Mr. Roarke, what do you think _Mrs_. Claus is gonna say when Santa shows up at the North Pole with that girl on his arm?"

Roarke stared at her, stricken speechless. She gave him a firm nod, turned and marched up the stairs to her room. Behind her, Tattoo burst out laughing.

† † † -- December 24, 1984

Roarke knew she was remembering the incident and chuckled. "I must admit, you got the best of me there," he said. "Nicely done for someone who had been on the island barely a month."

"I still bet you never even considered Mrs. Claus," Leslie retorted, her eyes twinkling. "You know, it makes me wonder whatever happened to that girl. I think I might sit up late and wait for Santa, and ask him how all that worked out."

"If you can stay awake that long, then by all means do so," Roarke said. "In which case, please convey my greetings and holiday wishes to Mr. Claus. Good night, my daughter…and Merry Christmas." With a last smile at her, he climbed the stairs, then paused halfway up and added as an afterthought, "Oh, Leslie, you might get Mariki to find some carrots for the reindeer. And…" He hesitated, then dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "Let me know if Rudolph really exists, won't you?" With that, he departed, leaving Leslie to wonder whether he was serious!

THE END


End file.
